Realisation Pt 11

Title: Realisation Pt 11
Author: hippie
Rating: M (fair bit of swearing)
Status: WIP (work in progress)
Fiction Type: DAAS
Pairing: Paul/Tim
Warnings: None really
Disclaimers: This is ALL fiction! I do not own or know DAAS or any of the characters herein!
Summary: Tim is showing resistance and anger as he slowly realises his relationship with Paul is something else

Pt 11

Richard sat in his room, guitar on his lap strumming chords that didn't even seem to make sense. He sighed. He was distracted and anxious about the dynamic of the Allstars. He had regretted what he'd done, he'd distorted their relationships to what seemed to be beyond repair and he worried what the future held as a group. He already mourned the loss of his friend's friendship.

He was snapped out of his thoughts by a slamming door and stomps to the kitchen. He listened as he heard Paul smash a glass, yell an obscenity, take a bottle of what Rich knew would be alcohol and stormed back to his room. He tried calling Tim again.

"Hello?" Tim sounded exhausted.

"Tim. What the fuck did you do to Paul?" He heard Tim groan.

"Why?!" Tim asked. Paul obviously didn't tell Richard, and he had no need to know.

"He's locked himself in his room, drinking. He's devastated. You'd better come round and fix this. I don't want a repeat of Edinburgh last year." Richard demanded. He often felt like the Dad of the group.

"I can't Rich, I have to look after something here." Richard could hear the stress in his voice and wondered what the hell could've happened. His concern deepened as he realised Tim wasn't the bad guy, he was just as upset as Paul.

"Mate," Rich said, softening his tone slightly. "You need to face this, whatever's happened. I don't know what's going to happen to us if you don't." Tim noticed the slight trace of fear and panic in Richard's voice.

Tim sighed. He looked at the sleeping form of Sarah, who had just finished pleading that she needed time alone. He took a deep breath and realised that Rich was right, he needed to face Paul if he didn't want to lose him, the thought of which he couldn't bear.

"Okay." He resigned.

"I'm going to head to Kara's while you're here. Let me know when you're set."

"Okay." Tim repeated.

"Mate, I hope everything is okay." Rich's voice was filled with love for his friend. Tim felt comforted that at least he had someone left in the world.

"Thanks" Tim uttered. "I'll be round in 'bout half an hour."

"Good luck." Richard replied before hanging up.

He picked up his keys and left, not telling Paul, he'd only get angrier if he knew that Tim was coming around.

*** ***

Paul had heard Richard leave, he was confused when he heard the door open again about forty minutes later. He was pained and angry and swung open his door to unleash a few words of fury on to Richard only to see Tim standing in the lounge. He was tall, dark, handsome and looking as shitty as Paul felt.

"What are you doing here?!" Paul spat.

"Came to sort this out with you, Pauly." He said softly.

"You should've fucking thought of that before you kissed me, eh?!" Paul responded. Tim knew he would encounter anger with Paul, as it was every time he was upset. Tonight though, he didn't feel he could deal with it.

"Why are you always so fucking intense?!" Tim yelled in frustration. Paul looked astonished. Tim usually joked and quipped with him when he was angry until Paul gave into frustration and his mood returned to normal.

"Intense?! Intense?!" he screamed, becoming louder more erratic. "Why are you so fucking stupid?!"

"You're acting like a woman, Paul!" Tim rebutted.

Paul left the doorway and stormed up to Tim, stopping just short of his face.

"You'd fucking like that, wouldn't you!? That's what you fucking want." Paul's eyes were furrowed and his eyes pierced Tim's with an intense fury and hurt. "You'd fucking like that so you don't feel like fucking faggot Timothy FUCKING Ferguson." Paul spat the words at him, and shoved him in the chest with the intention to hurt him as much as possible.

It worked. Paul, the person who was responsible for making him feel this way, who had ruined his marriage, was patronising him, judging him for it. Paul had shoved him in the chest, but it had felt like a blow to the stomach, he wanted to vomit.

"Fuck you." He replied quietly.

Paul had become completely irrational. He was only speaking from hurt, but he could no longer control it. He felt alcohol pulsing faster and faster through his veins and it only worked him up more. 'How dare Tim do this to him!? How DARE he do this to him?!' He kept thinking. He didn't really even know what Tim had done.

"Ooh, fuck you! Is that all you've got Timmy?!" Paul replied, mocking Tim's reply, much like a child would. "You should fucking stand up for yourself like a man. You should have the fucking balls to put up or shut up." Paul's voice cracked, he was dangerously close becoming hysterical.

"Paul, you need to calm down." Tim said quietly with tears in his eyes. He could see the situation spiralling out of control.

"Calm down!? Calm down!? Funny man! Funny fucking man!!!" He screamed as he began to sob. "You fucking hate me because you think I'm a fag. I'm a fag, a fucking fag." He spat between tears. His sobs were messy and his face contorted. "Timothy Fucking Ferguson thinks I'm a fag." His voice was lowering now, becoming more controlled, but not more rational. Tears streamed down his face.

"I fucking want you, Timmy. I fucking want you. But you mock me, you hate me!" He nearly whispered the last sentence as sobs wrecked his throat and he fell to the ground. The tantrum was a combination of Paul's intense, dark personality, his confusion about his own sexuality and alcohol.

Tim strode the few steps to Paul and caught him under the arms as he crumpled to the ground. The craziness was over now, he went limp in his arms, silently crying as Tim lowered himself on to the floor. Paul's head rested on his chest and he curled into him, accepting his solace. Tim wrapped his arms around Paul's shoulders and pulled him into a comforting hug.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry." Paul whispered as the adrenalin subsided. Paul was just beginning to realise what he'd just told his best friend. His straight, married best friend. He buried his head into Tim's chest, head pounding, eyes red and face stained with tears, and he waited, in fear for what Tim was going to say.

They sat in embrace for what felt like hours, feeling the rhythm of each other's breathing, each lost in their own thoughts of each other, not wanting to say a word to ruin a moment that seemed so perfect.

After a while, Paul lifted his head to look at Tim. Silently, Tim looked down to return his gesture. Paul's heart broke when he saw Tim's huge brown eyes red and watery with tears and Tim lost his breath at the sweetness and depth in Paul's now calm face. His heart skipped slightly.

"I'm sorry." Paul whispered. Even with no one around, it felt like anything louder then a whisper would ruin this moment between them. The world did not need to know about what they both felt. Tim squeezed Paul's shoulder and brought them closer together, they could feel the breath on each other's lips. Paul's eyes flicked down to Tim's lips before settling once again on his eyes. Paul's eyes were soft, sorry, red and confused. They were Paul's eyes, they were as familiar to Tim as his own were when he looked in a mirror, but somehow they were different. He loved those eyes, they spoke to him, and told him that it was okay. That he was allowed, that they loved him back.

That moment they spent entwined, suspended centimetres from one another spoke silent volumes. Paul reached up with some trepidation and wrapped his long fingers around the back of Tim's neck and pulled him closer. A tingle ran up Tim's spine and he let his head fall toward Paul's, pausing millimetres from his lips, their breath intermingled and both of their hearts were pounding in anticipation.

"are you sure?" Paul whispered, almost inaudibly, his lips brushing softly against Tim's as he asked permission.

Tim closed his eyes, inhaled and slowly nodded. Paul's anxiety fell away, replaced with anticipation. The corner of his mouth couldn't help but smile as he softly pressed his lips against Tim's. It was a long, soft kiss, one fraught with the pain, anticipation and terror, one that told both of them that everything was okay because they had each other. Nothing else would hurt so much anymore.

Fictional Works (nee DAAS Fiction): Realisation Pt 11 - Fictional Works (nee DAAS Fiction)